


Fact of Life

by grandsequel (Yunho)



Category: K-pop, MBLAQ
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunho/pseuds/grandsequel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joon doesn’t know it yet, but he and Seungho are soulmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fact of Life

It's a fact of life that Joon goes through women like Seungho’s mom goes through clothes. And considering her profession as a wedding gown designer, that’s saying a lot.  
  
He doesn’t exactly blame Joon. The guy was hot and  _knew_  it, so it made sense he used his aesthetic appeal to ‘lure in the ladies’ as Seungho liked to say (“What are you, a grandpa? Who says shit like that?” —“Shut up and respect your elders.” —“Alright grandpa.”) He doesn’t take offense to it either when Joon ditches him at the mall or arcade or even at lunch to go sit with the newest girl to catch his eye. Well, it doesn’t bother him as much as he’d like to admit at any rate.  
  
Over the years Seungho has come to accept Joon’s promiscuity, for lack of a better term. It was as definite a part of life as the sun rising and setting each day; as the rain that fell from the sky; as the color his cheeks turned when Joon would glance at him with a boyish crooked grin and then crack some stupid joke that was only funny because  _Joon_  cracked it.  
  
Another fact of life is that Seungho is a tiny bit in love with his best friend.  
  


\- - -

  
  
Joon doesn’t know it yet, but he and Seungho are soulmates. Oh yes, soulmates. The kind who could finish each other’s sentences and guess each other’s game passwords and pick up the phone without reading the caller ID and just  _know_  who it is before either of them even say anything. They’re a step away from reading each other’s minds but Seungho is sure if he could just convince Joon to practice with him, maybe they could get there too.  
  
First though, he has to make Joon see that they’re destined to be together.  
  
This is no easy feat, especially when Joon insists on bringing chicks back to their apartment every other night or cancelling their plans to hang out in favor of spending time with his new ‘girlfriend.’ Joon also doesn’t doesn’t do ‘girlfriends,’ let alone ‘boyfriends,’ so this too puts a damper on Seungho’s firmly held beliefs. But all hope is not lost. Seungho has a plan. A fail-proof, make-Lee-Joon-fall-in-love-with-me plan that is 100% guaranteed to work. He hopes.  
  
In his mind the plan involves a lot of confident confessing and shy smiles and lovey-dovey expressions and ends with Joon on top of him in bed, between his legs, hips grinding into hips, and hands clinging onto backs, and lips pressed to lips and—okay, well the plan ends in a good way. Seungho should know better though. Another fact of life is that fail-proof plans are never fail-proof. And usually there are very few  _lovey-dovey expressions_  involved.  
  


\- - -

  
  
Here they are, sitting at their dinner table on one of the rare nights Joon doesn’t have a date and Seungho doesn’t have a study session or a new level of Starcraft to beat. They’re eating a hastily prepared dinner of sandwiches and beer which took a whole 10 minutes to put together and even less time to inhale. Joon is already sucking his fingers to extract the last bits of spicy-sweet sauce from the long digits and Seungho can’t help but hold the last bite of his sandwich immobile at his mouth as he stares. The perfect curve of Joon’s pale, skinny wrist; the way his fingers curl inward then flex again as he reaches for his beer; the bottle rim resting calmly at his plump lips, exactly where Seungho would like to rest his—  
  
“You’re staring again,” Joon says, licking said delicious lips with the tip of his shiny-wet tongue. Honestly, he can’t  _not_  know what that move does to him, Seungho thinks. “Something on my face?”  
  
“I just can’t get over how ugly you look,” Seungho says, a vain attempt to not look so stupid for having been caught staring. Again.  
  
Joon laughs it off, not caring in the least because the insult Seungho shot at him is no insult at all. “Right, says the guy who hasn’t gotten laid in—how long has it been exactly?”  
  
“Fuck you,” Seungho quips. He grabs his empty bottle and plate and makes his way over to the sink to leave them until some other time for cleaning. Joon continues to sit at the table, still finishing his beer as he pulls over one of their old magazines and begins flipping through its wrinkled pages.  
  
 _Okay Seungho. Do it now. Now. Ri~ight now._  “Hey Joon?” he starts. This is it. This quiet, unassuming night with Joon full of good food and better beer is it. Here he goes to confess…  
  
And there goes Joon’s phone.  
  
“Hello? —Oh hey…No I didn’t forget, my roommate and I just had dinner…okay, no problem…Really? I’ll be over in a bit!” There’s Joon hanging up his phone and standing up, leaving his empty stuff abandoned on the table. There’s Joon leaving the apartment at 10 o’clock at night for some girl whose name Seungho can’t remember with only a quick a grin and a  _Don’t wait up for me_  shot back at his roommate.   
  
And there’s Seungho, feeling as abandoned as the empty plate and half filled beer bottle on the table as he quietly cleans up and heads to bed.  
  


\- - -

  
  
“I hate love,” he tells Mir. Mir is a good kid and a great friend. Always laughing like too much sunlight got ingested when he was a kid, Mir had a way of making Seungho feel better without really saying much. Not that that was ever a problem. Mir sometimes talked too much for his own good.  
  
“Joon again?” Seungho simply nods, chin resting on the bar table with his half empty shot glass inches from his face. “When is it  _not_  Joon?” he asks glumly.  
  
“You know what I think?” Seungho doesn’t bother to answer, knowing Mir will just say it. “I think you care way more for him than he will ever care for you. I also think you need to move on because being in your final year of uni and still crushing on your roommate is kinda pathetic hyung.” Seungho knows it to be true. That doesn’t stop him from acting indignant. “I am  _not_  pathetic,” he insists.  
  
“You really are. I mean, I get that Joon hyung is hot ass or whatever, but you being so hung up on him and yet too chicken to actually do anything about it beyond enabling him and his whorish ways is really very tragic. I think you need a hobby. Or better yet, a new object for your affections.” He finishes by clapping his hand on Seungho’s shoulder.  
  
He’s known Mir for almost three years, since he started attending the same university as him and Joon. It was coincidence they ended up in the same class one semester, but luck that drew them together. At least Seungho could say he had friends other than Joon.  
  
“It’s not that easy,” he tries to tell the younger boy.  
  
“Sure it is! You just…hm.” Mir falls quiet a moment. “Aha! You just go up to Joon one night and ask him to fuck your brains out, then you find someone new to crush on! See? Simple.”  
  
“So your oh-so-great words of advice for me are to let Joon fuck the love out of me? Are you serious?”  
  
“Yup. I see no flaws in this plan.” Mir looks up to see his friend hitting his head against the bar several times in quick succession. “Hey, it was just a suggestion,” he says, and promptly finishes Seungho’s shot.  
  


\- - -

  
  
Three weeks from that night and Seungho is still no closer to confessing than he was three years ago when he’d first met Joon. Not that he’d have confessed to him then. That would have been crazy. He didn’t just fall in love with him at first sight. Nope.  
  
But he  _did_  find him hot even then.  
  
“Is there something you need to tell me?” Joon asks him. He’s whooping Seungho’s butt quite royally at Mario Kart, but Seungho blames it on him being too distracted by Joon’s enticing ass sitting inches away from him. Joon pauses the game and turns to face him, a questioning look on his face.  
  
“Why do you ask?” Seungho is not avoiding Joon’s eyes. It just so happens the carpet has an interesting pattern he’s never quite noticed until now. That coffee stain definitely wasn’t there last week, neither was that juice stain. At least, he hopes it’s juice.  
  
“I ask because you’ve been acting strange these past few weeks.”  
  
“Well you know, finals are coming up and stuff,” he hedges.  
  
“So they are.” And then they lapse into silence. “Mir told me a funny thing a few weeks ago.”  
  
Oh shit. “Yeah?”  
  
“Oh yeah.” Seungho looks up when he feels sudden heat against his thigh from Joon pressing their thighs together. “A  _very_  funny thing.” Seungho finds himself locking gazes with Joon and just can’t seem to look away. He’s looking at him with a strange glint in his eyes, a look that was both knowing and shy at the same time. “What’d he tell you?”  
  
“That my best friend wants me to, hang on, lemme get this right, ‘ _fuck his love for me right out of him._ ’ Funny, right?”  
  
Seungho gulps and he swears Joon can hear his heart playing Nascar with his quickly sinking stomach. “Mir talks too much. Dunno what he was talking about.”  
  
“Really? That’s also a funny story, considering he  _specifically_  mentioned your name in substitute of the ‘best friend’ bit.”  
  
“Joon, I can explain—” He stops. What exactly is he supposed to say? Apparently the little shit he trusted with his deepest darkest secret like some pubescent teenage girl went and spilled said secret to the last person who should ever know. This certainly was putting another wrench in Seungho’s Fail-Proof Plan. “Uh…did he actually say that to you?” he asks instead.  
  
Joon gives him a smirk, one of his crooked boyish smirks that does crazy things to Seungho’s heart that he will never admit to (because he is most certainly not a pubescent teenage girl). He drops his Wii remote on the couch behind him and grabs Seungho’s out of his hand, only to drop that onto the ground. Seungho wants to tell him to be careful because that thing was  _expensive_ , but he can’t because Joon suddenly pushes him back on the sofa.  
  
Hovering above him with their faces only inches apart, Joon uses one hand to push Seungho’s leg off the couch to settle between his legs. His other hand comes up and drops down beside Seungho’s head, propping himself above him. “I’ll tell you in a second,” he says and before Seungho can say anything, Joon’s lips are suddenly against his in a kiss that at once shocks and thrills him.  
  
He should have known Joon would be excellent at this, considering the number of girls he’s kissed in his life, but it still takes Seungho a moment to comprehend what was happening. Joon’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, softened only by the faint lingering of popcorn butter his tongue hadn’t swept away. Seungho takes it upon himself to lick his lips clean, hands coming up to tangle in Joon’s impossibly messy hair for no other reason than to hold him steady.  
  
Satisfied he’s sucked away all the salty-sweet flavor, Seungho lets himself be daring and touches his tongue to Joon’s. The kiss is suddenly so much more, so much more than what Seungho had expected. The moan together and press their chests to one another and Seungho’s back arches off the couch. There’s no awkwardness between them—it’s like a natural progression. One minute Joon is nipping at Seungho’s lips, and then suddenly his mouth is everywhere; biting his jaw, placing gentle kisses at the corner of his mouth, licking his cheek to get to his ear and nibble on the soft shell of skin.  
  
Seungho isn’t about to just lie there. He enjoys the heated touches for a moment, giving out a strangled gasp when Joon’s hips rock into him and he gets a feel of Joon’s aching erection against his. Then he shoves Joon off of him, using his legs to push him off the couch before following him to the ground.  
  
They groan when Seungho straddles Joon’s hips and rubs against him, fingers back in Joon’s hair as he crashes their mouths together. It feels amazing—better than amazing,  _hot_  and  _consuming_  and like every glorious breath shared between them is for their mouths only. Seungho indulges in what he’s wanted for a long time, kissing Joon like he’s never kissed anyone before and will never kiss anyone again (though the latter part he hopes will prove to be true).  
  
When he pulls away, both are left panting and straining to hold themselves back. Seungho shudders as he stares down at Joon and watches him lick his lips. How many times had he seen his friend do that and felt tempted to suck those lips for himself?  _Well, now I can_, he thinks to himself, feeling smug. He leans down to do so, but Joon stops him with a hand on his chest.  
  
“What?” he asks, feeling stupidly embarrassed for the breathlessness of his voice.  
  
“I lied,” Joon says with a tongue-in-cheek grin. “I found those words written in your physics notebook. You should really be careful what you rant in there,” he says. It takes Seungho a second to realize what he’s talking about and when he does, he doesn’t hesitate to sock him in the shoulder. Nor does he feel an ounce of guilt for slumping down completely atop his friend and ignoring his pained gasp as he knocks the wind out of him.  
  
As he kisses Joon’s neck in feigned apology, he can’t help but think that as far as plans go, this one worked out pretty well. Granted, there was no actual confession or any shy smiles (Joon’s smirks surely didn’t count), but there  _was_  some intimate necking, groping, and hip thrusts. Seungho figures he’ll work on the other stuff later, after he’s properly convinced Joon why they should be together. After all, they  _are_  soulmates, and that’s not just him saying it.  
  
It’s a fact of life.


End file.
